


Ghost in the Machine

by glymr



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death, Spooky, Sweet, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr
Summary: Every time he saw the leader of the deviants, it was the same.  A sensation ofwant, rising up in him, nearly choking him.  His, but also...not his.  He barely knew Markus.  He admired him.  He respected him.He loved him.





	Ghost in the Machine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hostbusters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hostbusters/gifts).



> This is a pinch hit gift story for the DBH Secret Santa exchange, for https://twitter.com/hostbusters_. This story takes place in the DBH route where Simon dies and Connor tricks him to find Jericho's location.

Connor prepared to slip into the room. The Mission weighed on him, pushed him, a constant buzzing behind his eyes and at the back of his head. 

_STOP MARKUS_

He already knew what Markus looked like. Not only had he seen the recording at the TV station tower, but he'd seen glimpses of him when he'd- 

The glitch in his system returned, the one that recurred whenever he thought about the deviant he'd confronted on the roof. 

_-I don't want to die/Must protect Markus/Sorry, Markus-_

Connor reached for his tie, then folded his hand into a fist when he remembered he wasn't wearing one. 

He had a Mission. He would not fail it. 

He stepped into the room. 

The deviant leader met his eyes. 

Connor froze. He felt as though he'd been hit in the thirium pump, the shock traveling through his entire body. He'd known what Markus looked like, but what was this - this _feeling?_

It swept over his sensors, making his thirium pump jolt faster and his temperature sensors go haywire. He wanted...he _wanted_. He wanted to step forward and wrap his arms around Markus. To shield him. To _protect_ him. 

The leader was speaking to him, his words sinking into Connor's mind like stones, but Connor couldn't respond. Everything he would have said jumbled together, swamped by confusion and...something else. Something Connor didn't have a name for. 

Unbidden, the memory of the deviant returned. Connor had interfaced with him twice - once when he'd shot himself, and once when Connor had reactivated him to get the location of Jericho. And both times, the deviant's thoughts - Simon's thoughts - had been of Markus. 

_-We have to go back to Jericho, Markus/I love you, Markus/Markus, don't leave me!-_

Another swell of emotion crashed over Connor, freezing him in place. Tremors ran through his muscles, too small to be detectable from the outside. 

"It's time to decide," said Markus, and Connor faltered. He had a Mission. He had to Stop Markus. 

But he didn't _want_ to. 

Another unfamiliar sensation rose in him. Or perhaps not so unfamiliar...it carried with it a strange feeling that he'd done this before, or something like it. It made him want to tear at his orders. He wanted to destroy them, crush them, rip them out of him. 

He reached out, except he didn't. He found himself grabbing at the orders and pulling, yanking, breaking- 

-breaking- 

They shattered. 

*** 

Markus was on TV again. Connor sat on Hank's couch, his eyes locked on the screen. 

Every time he saw the leader of the deviants, it was the same. A sensation of _want_ , rising up in him, nearly choking him. His, but also...not his. He barely knew Markus. He admired him. He respected him. 

_He loved him._

Connor shivered. There was an alien presence in his circuits, something that had been there even before his deviancy. Something that had pushed him toward deviancy. 

He combed through the parts of his code he could access, trying to discover the glitch. It wasn't Amanda, she was long gone, the entire garden subprogram having disintegrated when he'd used the emergency exit. This was far more subtle than Amanda, like a half-heard echo or a shadow glimpsed around a corner. When Connor actively pursued it, it disappeared. If he thought about something else ( _Markus_ ) he could sense it on the edge of his thoughts and emotions, watching and _wanting_. 

He couldn't grasp it, couldn't erase it, so he tried to suppress it. When he saw Markus on TV, he would distract himself by thinking about his latest case. When the android leader's face showed up on the cover of a tablet, he would flip away from it and focus on a different article. 

It didn't work very well. Seeing Markus still sent a spike of emotion through him every time. 

When Markus showed up at his door, it was even worse. 

"We could really use your help," he said to Connor. "You're a trained negotiator. Your skill set is well-nigh unique among us." 

"Of course," Connor said stiffly. "I'll do whatever I can to help." He ignored the rocking feeling in his chest, as though something had thrown him off balance. 

He accompanied Markus to the conference, slotting neatly ( _too neatly_ ) into the tight-knit group. Josh treated him respectfully but warily, while North watched him suspiciously. After a time, though, both of them relaxed around him. He wondered at being accepted so easily ( _too easily_ ). 

Markus was more than respectful, he was warm. A hand on Connor's shoulder, a squeeze on his arm after a particularly successful negotiation during which Connor had managed to completely fluster the anti-android flunky sent to deal with them. 

It sent sparks of joy through his system, little jolts of happiness and hunger. He pushed them back, shoved them down, he was a professional, and this wasn't - he couldn't - 

Even if Markus seemed warmer with him than he was with the others. Even if the hand lingered on his back a full second longer than the socially accepted length of time. Even if Markus invited him to their late night brainstorming sessions. 

Things came to a head late one afternoon when Markus declared he was going to return to the site of the original Jericho and see how viable it would be to build a memorial there. 

"I'm going with you," said Connor. _Protect,_ cried the feeling surging up in him. "It's not safe." He remembered the way there, through abandoned buildings and across rooftops. Not difficult for either of them, but Markus was a public figure now. Connor didn't like to think of what might happen to him if he ran into a group of android-hating humans. 

He half-expected Markus to object, but the android leader just shrugged and said, "If you like," flashing Connor a grin. 

Connor's hands itched with the desire to touch him. 

It was an uneventful trip, first a quick ride to Ferndale and then an easy walk/climb/jump through to the abandoned office building. When they got to the parking garage, Connor could hardly stand it anymore. 

"Markus," he said. 

Markus was standing next to one of the pillars, lightly touching the symbol fragment sprayed across it. "Hm?" he said. 

Connor stood silently and looked at him for a moment, the feelings rising and falling, drowning him and then receding. 

_Want. Desire. Protect. Hunger. Need. Love._

_Love._

_Love._

Markus turned his head and met Connor's eyes. He straightened, giving Connor a small smile. "What is it, Connor?" 

The words built in Connor's throat, choking him. "I-" He stopped. 

His smile fading, Markus took a step toward him. His eyes searched over Connor's face in the dim light. "Are you all right?" 

He was so close. Connor's hand snapped out to grip Markus by the shirt and pull him even closer. Connor wasn't entirely sure whether he was even in control of the action. He stared up into those mismatched eyes, watching them go wide with surprise and - something else. 

"Connor," Markus murmured, his voice dropping low. His hand wrapped around Connor's. 

"Markus." The word came out through gritted teeth. Shaking with terror or elation, he reeled Markus in the final inches and kissed him, his lips gentle even as his hands gripped the shirt fabric so tightly it nearly tore beneath his fingers. 

Something inside him sang at the contact. When Markus kissed him back, lips firm and warm on his own, he trembled from toe to head. 

Another part of him merely watched, cold and analytical. 

They parted at last. Markus gazed at him with a hint of mischief sparking across his expression. "You want me, Connor?" Connor nodded, swept along by the inexorable tide. Carefully, Markus encouraged him to release his grip on the shirt. Once he was free, he took a step back. "If you want me - come and get me!" He sprinted away. 

The hunter in Connor awoke. 

His body was already moving before his mind fully comprehended the words. Markus was disappearing around the corner, running faster than a human. Connor gave chase. 

They were nearly evenly matched, and Markus had a head start. Their abilities to preconstruct were identical. It took everything Connor had to catch up to Markus, his processor and hardware pushed to their limits. 

They tore through the building, across the garage, in and out of the rooms, even out one window and in another. It was a dance, a game, dangerous and exhilarating. It was like nothing Connor had ever felt before. Chasing deviants had been a job, fighting them a terrible duty. This was...fun. 

In the end, Connor was just that tiny bit faster. He looped an arm around Markus and brought him crashing to the ground, pinning him so he couldn't escape. 

If they'd been human, they both would have been panting. As it was, Connor stared down at his captive in silence, both of them stilling. Markus smiled slowly, shifting, testing Connor's grip on him. "Caught me," he whispered. 

The bit of Connor that wasn't part of his original programming, the part that had first loved Markus, was bewildered. _Why had Markus wanted to be chased? Why had he wanted to fight?_

Even now, Markus was straining against him. Connor knew if he gave him an inch, Markus would slip away from him. 

So he didn't give him an inch. Instead he lowered his head and kissed Markus fiercely. Markus kissed him back, his tongue hot and eager and lighting up every sensor in Connor's mouth. He felt his skin receding where they were joined, felt the low-level interface where his hands wrapped around Markus's wrists. 

_Make me,_ begged Markus. 

So Connor dove into him, letting his mind surge forward the way his body wanted to, letting himself drown in Markus Markus _Markus-_

oh. 

Markus was so strong, the burden of the entire Revolution on his shoulders. Connor sensed its crushing weight, the feeling of inadequacy a boulder on his back. His grief for every android who had died while he had survived. 

Then Connor asked to meet with him. The Deviant Hunter who had helped save them all. 

When Connor had kissed him, Markus wanted, just for a little while, to be free of it all. To think of nothing but running and fighting, as he had during the Revolution when it had all seemed so simple. To make every thought about survival, leaving no room for anything else. 

He'd wanted to be overwhelmed. To be pushed out of himself. To stop _thinking_ , rA9, please, let him stop thinking- 

_It's all right._

Something resonated between them for a second. An echo. A shadow. 

_Simon?_ The truth was there, obvious in the interface. He'd known that Simon loved him, but he'd never felt the same way, never loved him the same way. More guilt. He couldn't be what North wanted, couldn't be what Simon needed. He was being torn in a thousand directions at once. 

_I couldn't be what you needed, either._ Simon's not-voice sounded lost. _I didn't know what you needed. I'm sorry._

Fuck, Simon was the last one that should be apologizing to him. Not when he'd left him _behind_. 

Connor's own guilt rose, thick and choking. Simon had killed himself because Connor had hunted him down. Then he'd done the unforgivable, had taken away the last scrap of dignity about his death and tricked him- 

_I forgive you._

He didn't deserve it. He was the Deviant Hunter. He was a murderer. 

_Not anymore. I forgive you._

_We forgive you._

Markus was there, too, wrapping around him with warmth and acceptance and- 

and- 

_Love_ \- how. How could he, could they, how could he love someone like Connor? 

_You are what he needs._ For a moment Connor wasn't sure which of them Simon meant. Maybe both. It didn't matter. _Take care of him. Please. Take care of each other_. 

_I will._ Their responses came simultaneously, as though one voice. _We will._

And then the echo faded, the shadow softening at the edges- 

-and was gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, come find me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/glymrs and say hello!


End file.
